Are We Watching The Same Movie: Crime 101

Am I crazy? Because I keep seeing glowing reviews for Crime 101, and I genuinely feel like the movie I watched is not the same one everyone else seems to be praising. I went in ready for a slick crime thriller with a stacked cast, and instead I spent most of the runtime wondering when the story was actually going to start.

Let’s begin with the biggest frustration: the film wastes the talent of Halle Berry. Berry is more than capable of carrying complicated characters, yet here she’s written as surprisingly weak for most of the movie. There’s even a moment where her character is scrolling through Tinder, which feels completely disconnected from the central plot. It lasts maybe seven seconds, but even that felt like wasted screen time. It doesn’t build character. It doesn’t advance the story. It just sits there like filler in a film that already struggles with focus.

In fact, the movie doesn’t really feel like it starts until about an hour and a half in, during a conversation between Chris Hemsworth and Halle Berry’s character at a table. I’m a huge believer in proper exposition. Give the audience the setup they need. But this was excessive. By the time we get to the meat of the story, the film has already burned through so much time that the payoff can’t possibly live up to the buildup.

The ending, spoiler alert, is where things really piss me off...

Mark Ruffalo actually delivers one of the more interesting performances in the film as the detective. His character shows genuine development throughout the story. But then the film asks us to believe that this same detective, who has spent years chasing criminals, suddenly steals the diamonds and lets Hemsworth’s character walk free after committing crime after crime. It felt wildly out of character.

Yes, the film hints that the detective sympathizes with Mike because he grew up in foster care and had a rough childhood. I understand the intention there. But that information arrives so late in the film that it feels like a last-minute patch meant to glue together a plot that was already falling apart. If you want the audience to emotionally connect with a character’s past, you can’t drop it in the final act and expect it to suddenly carry weight.

Then there’s the love story. Or what the movie wants to be a love story.

At the very end, Hemsworth’s character drops off an envelope with an old photo for Maya, played by Monica Barbaro. She opens it, the camera zooms in, and we’re supposed to have some emotional realization. Except I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at!

I couldn’t even tell which person in the photo was Mike, James, or whoever he decides to call himself that day. Was that his brother? Were they adopted? Was there some deeper meaning I missed? Instead of delivering closure, the scene left me with more questions than answers. For a movie about crime and calculated decisions, ending on that kind of confusion felt like a strange creative choice.

The detective storyline also takes another odd turn when he accepts a muscle car as a gift from Hemsworth’s character. Let’s be honest. A cop accepting a gift like that would never fly with such little character connection to one another. This was a character who had been portrayed as morally grounded the entire film even when his partner and the department turned against him. We even see corruption in the department when officers plant a gun on a kid to protect another cop’s career. Yet somehow this same detective suddenly bends his own moral code at the end? It didn’t track.

One moment that perfectly captures the film’s confusion about its own identity is the so-called car chase. Normally, a car chase implies at least two cars. In this case, Chris Hemsworth commits his first crime, nearly gets shot, and then suddenly speeds off through the streets of Los Angeles like he’s being hunted by half the city. The music swells dramatically. He’s whipping through traffic, cars are honking, accidents nearly happen, and at one point the vehicle is practically riding on two wheels. The problem? No one is chasing him! Not the police, not security, not even an angry pedestrian on a bicycle. It’s just him driving recklessly while the film pretends we’re watching a high-stakes pursuit but his character isn't like that. He is a "stay under the radar, don't hurt anyone" kind of guy. But I swear he almost hit a lady pushing a stroller. I really wanted to leave at that moment. The scene feels like the movie desperately wanted to announce itself as an action thriller but didn’t actually have the ingredients to deliver a real action sequence. Instead of tension, it just created confusion.

One storyline that actually had potential involved Halle Berry’s character navigating a very white, male-dominated industry. The film touches on the idea that wealthy clients often treat Black and Native American art as nothing more than financial assets rather than cultural expressions. That’s a fascinating angle. It could have been the emotional backbone of the film. Instead, it barely scratches the surface.

What we do get is the all-too-familiar storyline where a younger white woman enters the workplace and begins edging out the veteran Black woman who has spent years proving herself. Berry’s character has worked at the firm for eleven years, chasing promises that she’ll eventually be made partner. Those promises never materialize, and the new hire suddenly becomes the shiny new favorite in the room. That dynamic is real, layered, and worth exploring. Unfortunately the film rushes through it and then uses it as a quick justification for why Berry’s character flips and joins the heist. The transition happens so quickly that it feels unfinished.

Stylistically, the movie also leans too heavily on flashy camera choices that don’t serve the story. I’m all for a director and cinematographer chasing that dream shot. Take the risk. But not every creative idea deserves to stay in the final cut. The upside-down shots scattered throughout the film felt unnecessary and distracting rather than artistic. There’s also a bizarre moment where a character gets into a car and the camera is positioned on the side mirror. It was so out of place that it completely pulled me out of the scene. I honestly can’t even remember which character was getting into the car. That’s how distracting the shot was.

Then there’s the casting of Nick Nolte, who I genuinely love as a performer. Unfortunately the film doesn’t seem to know what to do with him. We get flashes of anger and intensity, but they’re one-note and fleeting. It’s somehow both too little and too much of him at the same time.

The same issue appears with Barry Keoghan as Ormon. For most of the movie, his character is reckless and irresponsible. That’s his defining trait. Then suddenly, at the end, he hesitates, looks emotional, and seems on the verge of tears as if the audience is supposed to sympathize with him. But that emotional turn never felt earned. If anything, his death felt like the movie trying to force a reaction that hadn’t been properly built.

And that’s really the biggest issue with Crime 101. The film keeps presenting moments that should matter, but it hasn’t done the work to make them matter. With a cast this strong, the potential was enormous. Instead, the story feels scattered, the emotional beats arrive too late, and the creative choices often distract more than they enhance. So again, I ask: am I crazy? Or are we really not watching the same movie?